South Park Christmas Dip
by RurouniKon
Summary: South Park Christmas - Damien and Pip - Not much else to add. Yaoi/Shonen-ai/BL


**Title: **South Park Christmas - Dip

**Author: **RurouniKon

**Pairing: **Damien/Pip Dip

**Rating: **T – swearing, sexual content

**Summary: **A South Park Christmas – Damien & Pip – not much more to that summary. Yaoi/Shonen-ai/BL

**Disclaimer: **I don't own South Park, or any of its characters. If I did, it would be much more 'Slashy'. No, it belongs to my personal heroes, Trey Parker and Matt Stone.

**South Park Christmas – Dip: **

I was spending Christmas Eve much like I spent it every year, alone with a good book. I was in my living room seated on my old chesterfield. I never understood why I kept such old piece of furniture; then again, most of the items in my house could easily be considered antiques. I guess they remind me of home, or another time. I took my eyes off my book and scanned the room, it was decorated in an overall simplistic motif; All the furniture was old and covered in a fading, seemingly floral patterns. Other then the chesterfield I was seated on there was two matching arm chairs and a single rocking chair with an over stuff, royal blue pillow on the seat. An old oak coffee table was in the center of the room, and the center piece were a bouquet of six black roses, not black from wilting mind you, but because they were given to me as such. I blushed as I reached over and ran my fingers along one of the black rose's petals.

"Damien…" I mumbled to myself, he had been in such a foul mood all week, even before that I believe. I always assumed he wouldn't be one for this holiday, I was completely correct on my assumption. I'm not sure which of his 'hints' really set this thought into motion. I glanced off to the far right corner of the room looking sympathetically at the literally three foot tall, shedding Christmas tree. I'm sure there are more needles from the branches on the floor around the base of the tree rather then on its branches. It was a sad little tree to say the least, and wasn't my first pick. But I've rather grown a liking toward the little shrub. I smile warmly at the little tree, decorated very blandly with a few small ornaments and a string of popcorn I put together myself to fill up the emptiness. My first tree was much larger, much fuller and much more beautiful. It even brought that delightful pine-evergreen scent into the house, very festive indeed. I had spent sum three hours alone decorating it. That isn't including all the time I spent bringing it home and setting it up myself. I was quite proud of the outcome when it was completed, so proud in fact I wished to show it to Damien. My first 'hint' and a drastic error in my judgment; I think back to the memory, it only happened a few days ago if I recall…

_He entered my house, a sullen expression written across his face (which I was rather used to, it suited him). He kicked off his snow covered boots and shook the loose snow out of his ebony hair. It fell over his eyes and he brushed it out of his face._

"_What you want to show me Pip?" He questioned, looking over at me, his stunningly crimson eyes meeting my oceanic blue ones. _

"_It's over here," I gesture pointing into the living room. He rolled his eyes and walked over to me. He paused and glared into the room, growling deep in his throat._

"_What in the Hell is that!?" He spat, his eyes a blaze in rage._

"_M-my Chri-Christmas tree…" I mumbled, looking down at my feet. Maybe this wasn't the best of ideas._

"_Christmas tree!?" He pauses, looks at me, and grumbled something under his breath as he pointed at the tree without taking his eyes off me. It instantly sparked and ignited in a blaze of orange and yellow glow. Almost as soon as the fire had started, it had stopped. The tree in all its previous glory was nothing but a pile of aches. The ornaments, bulbs, tinsel and the glass star which I had set on the top of the tree were all gone in the blaze. Nothing else in the room was even scorched; there was no sign, other then the pile of aches, that a fire had even occurred._

"…_Damien… I spent so much money and time on that tree…" I whimper, holding back tears that are just begging to fall onto my cheeks. He didn't say a word, just turned and left my house, breaking every single decorative light bulb around the outside of my door way. They all popped simultaneously as he passed through the doorway, not taking his eyes off the ground ahead of himself. He disappeared into the snow outside and I fell to my knees wondering what I had done wrong._

I'm no longer upset about that. I find it hard to stay mad at anyone, especially Damien. I'm sure he had a good reason for what he had done; I must have upset him in some way. Then again, if I really think back, he had hinted earlier that he wasn't interested what-so-ever in Christmas. We had gone to the strip mall here in South Park a few weeks ago or so, i just enjoy the atmosphere at this time, people scrambling around buying all sorts of expensive things I could never dream to afford. I had begged Damien to go along with me; I believe he only agreed because of his over protecting nature. He always thinks that if he leaves me alone someone will hurt me. He reluctantly allowed me to drag him to the mall. Upon reaching the mall I paused and looked to Damien, he was fidgeting and seemed rather uncomfortable, when I asked if he was alright he just replied, 'I'm fine, don't be stupid!'. We walked through the mall, passing a few stores where I stopped to admire a scene from the nativity story, little baby Jesus was set in his crib in the manger. A few other families had paused to take in the scene and I noticed Damien staring at the scene. Not out of interest, but I noted the small grin that formed on his lips, puzzled I shrugged it off until I heard one of the mothers shriek. I took my attention off Damien and over to the mother, who was now covering her children's eyes and yelling for someone's attention. I glanced back at the scene in the store display and could see the problem. Baby Jesus's eyes were bleeding. The red liquid spilled out of the baby's sockets and trickled down his cheeks, staining the blanket he was so gently wrapped in. I knot grew in my stomach and I felt sick. Soon I noticed that the Virgin Mary's eyes too ran with blood, it ran down her smooth face and fell onto the head of the baby Jesus. I turned to see Damien, a toothy grin painted across his face. At that moment I actually felt afraid of him. The police started on their way over, pushing past the crowd and examining the display. At this Damien grabbed my wrist and tugged me away from the scene. I looked over to him and he simply said, 'I thought it made it more interesting.'

The rest of that trip was much the same; we passed the section of the mall where Santa's village was. I crossed my fingers and hoped Damien would leave it alone, after all… what had Santa done to him? That and the fact that there were so many children there that could get caught in the cross fire. My hopes were dashed I'm afraid. Damien ended up igniting most of the display along with Santa's beard, while a little girl was seated on his lap cried out frantically. Damien only chuckled at this action, enjoying the chaos. We soon left the mall; I assumed Damien knew that once the South Park police (as incompetent as they are) would realize that the son of Satan was causing all this havoc.

I remained silent in thought; the only sound was the repetition of the plunk sounds my faucet in the kitchen made. It always leaked, and I could here every single drop of water as it fell and clanked against the stainless steel sink. I tried to take my mind off Damien and put it back to the book I had been neglecting in my thought. Great Expectations, I'm not sure why, but this book always interested me. I started flipping through the pages, now and again stopping to look at the snow outside the window. I was enjoying the silence… which was when I noticed that I could no longer hear the sound of the water dripping from the tap. My heart skipped a beat, I couldn't fix that leak no matter what method I tried, it shouldn't have stopped. I glanced into the kitchen, peering over the back of the chesterfield. I sighed in relief when I didn't see anything out of the ordinary. I was about to turn back to my book when I heard the sound of a pin tapping against the floor (my house is quite silent, I COULD hear a pin drop). I turned and noticed it wasn't a pin, but a nail. Curiously I stood and walked over to the nail, kneeling down and picking it up. I wondered where the nail had fallen from when I heard a small creak and look up to see the cross I had hanging on the wall had flipped and was hanging upside down. My breath caught in my throat and I backed up slowly, stopping when I bumped into something behind me.

"Boo." I squeaked and spun around to find Damien standing behind me, wearing a huge grin across his face.

"D-Damien!" I barked, trying my best to look angry.

"Aww… Did I scare you?" He questioned with a fake pout, "My bad."

"That i-isn't funny!" I exclaimed, crossing my arms across my chest.

"I thought it was," He smiled, leaning forward and brushing hair out of my face, "You're cute when you get freaked."

"Why are you here?" I questioned, trying to seem stern and uninterested in having him there.

"Cause you're here." He replied simply.

"So?"

"So, I wanted to see you, something wrong with that?" He questioned, raising a brow.

"No… I guess not." I replied dumbly. He grinned, grabbing my shoulders and dragging me over to the couch where he pinned me under his weight. I grunted in protest but he just smiled down at me.

"You're so fucking cute…" He mumbled to me, leaning down and forcing his lips against my neck. I tried to muffle a small moan, but couldn't. I could feel him grinning against my skin

.

"You cannot resist me," He explained, "I'm too damn hot."

"N-no!" I yelped, trying to push him back, "I'm mad at you." Such a lie. "I don't want you here." Another lie. "Go away." I'm so full of it.

"Yes. You're NOT mad. You DO want me here, and I won't go away." He replied.

"You're mean." I stammered childishly.

"No shit," He replied nipping lightly at my skin, "You just figure that out?"

"You're not normally mean to me," I whimper.

"I'm never mean to you," He corrects, "You know how many people wish they could be you?"

"I could care less," I spat, trying to look away from him.

"I don't want anyone other then you though." He soothed, sinking his canines gently into the skin, not breaking it though. I inhale sharply at the sensation.

"Y-you have a fu-funny way of showing it." I stammer, trying to ignore the feeling of his teeth in my skin.

"I don't think I'm ever mean to you." He replied, muffled against my skin.

"You burned down m-my Christmas tree." I retort.

"I didn't like it."

"But it wasn't yours."

"That didn't change the fact that I didn't like it."

"…why then?" I inquire, I feel him remove his teeth from my neck so he can look me in the eyes.

"You like me right?" I nod. "You know what I am right?" I nod again. "And you think I would enjoy the thought of the only person I love celebrating the birth of my enemy?" I stop and muse on his words.

"All pure souls are your enemy," I reply.

"You're not my enemy." He retorts. "I just didn't want to see anything to do with Christ here."

"I'm sorry then Damien." I conclude, looking into his eyes.

"Its fine," He says leaning down and licking the bite marks he left on my neck. I attempt to stifle another moan at the contact, but am unsuccessful. "I guess I should apologize for burning down your tree."

"It's alright," I assure, running my hands through his inky black hair, "I didn't need it."

"How about this," He smiles, leaning in so our lips are barely brushing against each other, "Since I ruined your holiday, I'll be your Christmas gift." I blush. He grins.

"A-Alright." I stammer. He closes the gap between our lips and pushes his lips into mine. I feel his tongue run along my bottom lip as he forces it into my mouth. Our tongues don't even come close to wrestling for dominance, there is no point. His tongue explores my mouth, and every so often playfully rubbing against mine. I need to break apart for a moment to breathe, we stop and I swallow large gulps of air.

"There we go," He grins, running his tongue along my jaw line, stopping to playfully flick it against my heated cheek. He sits up for a moment and shouts, "There take that Jesus!" He punches the air triumphantly and I giggle softly, covering my mouth with my hands.

"I'm glad you're in a better mood." I tell him, not pulling my hands away from my face. He looks down at me and blinks.

"I was in a bad mood before?"

"Indeed you were-" I stop and consider the fact Damien hadn't realized he was being mean, I'm sure somewhere in his mind he wasn't doing anything wrong. "N-nevermind."

"Did I miss something here?" He questions, rubbing a hand through his hair and looking down at my confusedly.

"Not really," I smile taking hold on his hand in mine, and lightly kissing it, "You're just you." He smiles, leaning down and capturing my lips once more.

"Merry Christmas Pip."

"Thank-you Damien."


End file.
